


Impractical Jokes

by v0ltaire (orphan_account)



Category: Bandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Short scene
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2020-09-24 03:44:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20351854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/v0ltaire
Summary: A series of scenes within The (strange, bad, and unwarranted) Circus AU.----mychem/fob centric with bandom friends and cameos (also jack white appears), tags will be edited accordingly[updates Sunday nights EST]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> original summary 
> 
> This is a scene from an AU I will never write where bandom is a travelling circus and Pete is the one who got away but is making a return visit. He gets stuck and has a moment of self doubt wherein Mikey attempts to “console” him through a payphone at some ungodly hour of the night. That’s it.

**Present**

Pete had every good intention of sticking to the plan. He did, he was good like that, when he meant something he really fucking meant it. It was not, however, his fault if certain things prevented him from achieving his goals. Like, say, his car breaking down on the freeway, or his cell having no service, or the fact that when he did manage to get picked up as a hitchhiker, he ended up giving the guy a handjob between states.

“I just don’t think it counts as cheating when it was used as a form of currency, is all.”, He tried to reason. He was leaning against the sweaty wall of the phonebooth in some bus depot along the coast.

“Not the point, Pete.”, sighed the voice on the other line.

“Don’t ‘Pete’ me, Mikey Way. This isn’t my fucking fault.”, he said sharply, his brow furrowed. The hand not gripping the phone was leaned against the top of the box, fist digging into his forehead with frustration.

“I know you’re trying to reconcile whatever this is with the excuses in your head, but… I just don’t have the patience right now. You’re not trying to convince me, here.”, Mikey replied, he sounded distracted, like he was thumbing through a magazine and only half listening. Pete knew that tone well, it was a note of warning as much as it was sympathy.

“I know,” he sighed, “I can’t— I’m just so over every little thing getting in the way. It’s one after the other and it’s piling up, I don’t know what to do.”, he nearly whined.

Mikey’s tone was lighter, “You should try having these conversations with the people that actually need to hear them, for one. For two, next time you plan on taking a road trip, make sure your car is in decent condition. How many quarters you got?”

“Enough for another call. I’m okay.”, Pete said, “I’m fine, I should go. I’m sorry.”

“Hold on. I want you to do something for me. I know it’s gonna sound weird but it doesn’t matter why. Take a walk, wherever you are, and find a place with dirt or gravel. Draw a circle around yourself and sit down in it. Close your eyes and fuckin’ reach out you’re stubby little spiritual fingertips. You don’t have to pray, you don’t have to meditate, it can be whatever you want, just sit with your thoughts.”

“That’s usually not what people tell me to do,” Pete chuckled darkly

“Be intentional with your thinking. Do it with purpose.”, Mikey concluded, “Also fuck you, it’s 4 am.”

“You were awake,” Pete smiled, for real, “Bye.”

“Goodbye.”

•

Gerard was not in the habit of eavesdropping but it’s not like it was a hard thing to do. He was already on Mikey’s bed, and Mikey was leaned against him.

“How is he?”, Gerard asked.

Mikey looked at him, “Apparently he’s lost and has already given away a sex act for mileage, so pretty standard. He’s fine, or so he said.”

“I don’t get why he wouldn’t just fly. Our schedule is posted on the website” Gerard said.

Mikey shrugged, “Can I press play or are you gonna keep talking?”

•

Pete didn’t leave the booth for another five minutes, deciding to do as Mikey had told him. Finding a dirt covered area wasn’t difficult as he stood looking around in the desolate parking lot where busses would be. He had nothing but a backpack and rolly suitcase that trailed behind him. His suit, once pristine, was practically in shambles by now so he had no qualms dropping his bags and his ass on the ground.

With two fingers he etched a circle in the dirt around him, and he knew that this was a barrier between himself and the rest of the world. He’d seen Mikey do this once, because he’d said he didn’t mind the audience. By accident he’d seen Gerard do this often. It was always weirdly beautiful in its own way.

He breathed in, at first it was sharp and cold, the air humid despite that. Eventually he settled into a rhythm, channeling his lower gut with the inhale to take full advantage of his lung capacity. He was not good at letting thoughts happen and not entertaining them. He frequently had full dialogs with himself about all sorts of things.

Now was no different, he was struck with the worry of trying to make good time before the troupe moved onto the next town. He was worried about how Patrick would react when he got there. He was worried about finding somewhere to stay so he wouldn’t be sleeping on the streets if the trip lasted longer than he’d anticipated. He was worried about bothering Mikey and overstepping with his neediness, that one never went away. He was worried about being murdered in the meantime, too.

Pete opened his eyes, and the dim glow of the streetlights in the distance polluted the corners of his vision as he sighed. The purpose of this, to sit with his thoughts, was not to deplatform them, was not to solve them, but to be aware of them. To accept them. These are all, he realized, perfectly reasonable worries indeed. The feeling itself was simply overwhelming. But he was okay. He would make it back to Chicago if it killed him.


	2. catalyst

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i said i wasn’t gonna expand on this but here we are

**Past, 3 Years Ago**

Pete was sitting on the edge of Gerard’s bed, staring down at his hands and breathing heavily. It was a long few moments of silence that he had to soak up the colourful decor of the room, posters slowly devoured by shadows as the sun outside dipped and no longer peaked into the window.

Gerard’s trailer was an add-on to the back of his dad’s pickup truck, an old red ford that was barely recognizable but still worked perfectly. That’s sort of how Pete felt, now, he realized. He smiled grimly to himself, he’d always loved this truck. 

Eventually Gerard came thundering in with a grand smack of the door against the wall, and a tipping of the trailer with the weight of him stepping in. His face was flushed and grinning, it was nearly winter so the nights and mornings were freezing and the days warm. Pete just barely managed to return the smile, it’s not like he didn’t want to, but he’d feel insincere.

Gerard’s face fell, and he closed the door behind himself, shucking off his heavy boots and dropping his jacket as he moved to sit beside Pete on the bed. He reached out a hand to touch the side of Pete’s face, and Pete grabbed his hand, and held it between them.

“Been here long?”, Gerard asked.

“No, not really.” Pete shook his head. He let go of Gerard’s hand, and met his eye.

“I got a call from my mom last night.”, Pete said.

Gerard’s face contorted with concern, and he had to stop himself from reaching forward. “I’m sorry.” he offered, “What did she say?”

“My dad is in critical condition. He’s… at the hospital.”, Pete said “He– Apparently he was part of a collision of some sort and, uh, he’s not gonna make it. So…”

Pete’s face was blank, he wasn’t sad, really, more that he didn’t know what to do with the information. Gerard seemed to be the same way, but he was buzzing with an energy that Pete wished he had. He leaned forward, finally, into Gerard’s shoulder, which was cue enough for him because he wrapped his arms around Pete and leaned them back to lay on the bed, legs dangling from where they’d been sitting. 

Gerard petted Pete’s hair, and eventually they fell asleep. 

  


In the morning Pete woke with a sweat, tucked comfortably into Gerard’s side, who had turned over in his sleep. Pete’s mood was much better, yesterday had been a travelling day in which he had time to stew for 12 hours. Today was meant to be much the same, but he felt tended to, cared for. Gerard smelled like the sharp cold like how the morning’s felt, a product of the unwashed mousse in his hair. Pete inhaled, feeling creepy then, he sighed, and sat up slowly. 

Gerard stirred beside him, an arm groping behind himself to coax Pete back to bed but he gave up after a moment and turned onto his back. Pete looked over his shoulder and squinted at Gerard, good morning, he projected. Gerard smiled warmly, he got the message. Pete sighed.

  


“Hi.” Patrick said curtly, he was doing inventory on the instruments trailer and they were missing a tuba. 

Pete stood next to him with a grimace, Patrick not looking up from his clipboard as he frantically flipped through pages. 

“Need me for something?” Patrick asked, “I told Gerard I’d be by his office later. I’m kind of busy right now.”

“No, I…” Pete said, “I wanted to talk to you about something important.”

Patrick finally made eye contact with Pete, lowering his clipboard slowly and decisively. His face was grim, lips thin. “Sure, no problem.”

“I’m flying out to Chicago when we get to LA.”, Pete said, and Patrick didn’t react. “My dad passed away last night. I have to go home and make arrangements and… I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

“Jesus Christ.”, Patrick bellowed in disbelief. He dropped the clipboard and wrapped his arms around Pete, a solid and weighted embrace that he sank into. 

“I wish I could come.”, Patrick said.

“Mhm,” Pete just relished the embrace. 

In two days, he would be back in Illinois. He would inherit Wentz-Auto, a multimillion valued corporation. He would be running away from the circus to become a businessman. 

  



	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm late because i arbitrarily decided the update day just now, also the amount of chapters is only an estimate, likely it could be much longer since i tend to write short things which means lots of little chapters instead of fewer long ones

When Gerard panicked, it was an uncomfortable display of normalcy and rigid efficiency that typically only happened during their Halloween Special Event. Mikey was at home in New Jersey tending to the family motel like a good boy when he got the call that night at around 2 am.

“It happened.” Gerard said with an intensity that made Mikey’s nape hair stand on end, even from across the country.

“We’re bankrupt,” Mikey drawled, because he handled their personal finances and knew it wasn’t true.

“We might be now.” Gerard said, grimmer still, “Pete’s, dad, died.”

“You, so…” Mikey replied, “So he’s leaving and you don’t know how to run a business despite owning a business and you’re selfishly worried more about the business than your best friend.”

“You are my best friend,” Gerard said, “Pete is my professional platonic soulmate and, and, I care a lot about what he’s going through. It’ll crush him. He’ll die inside, he won’t have any fun, and Patrick would never leave me even for him so he’ll be extra alone doing a fucking 9-5 at a company that profits on his misery.”

Mikey pushed his glasses up to wipe his eye, nodding along, “Okay.”

“And-and-and, I am selfishly concerned about our joint company because we employ a lot of fucking people and I need a crutch, he was my perfect anchor in every way.” Gerard raved, and Mikey imagined him post-show with a boa around his neck and mascara tears pacing about the narrow confines of the hatchback trailer, “I... I need you here, okay?”

“I thought you’d never fucking ask,” Mikey said, because it was true and he didn’t care if his mom wanted to retire because she was still on payroll and did fuck all so he was out to the west coast the next day.

XO

At LAX Pete sat in the intern beater next to Patrick in the parking lot, blank faced.

“You’ll call every second day at least,” Patrick said.

Pete nodded.

“And I don’t care what your final decision is, I wanna hear it in person.”

  


Pete nodded again.

“And, if it makes sense, I’ll support you. But, I…” Patrick trailed off.

“Have the job of your dreams and aren’t indebted to me the way you are Gerard, I understand.” Pete said.

“It’s stupid when you say it like that,” Patrick frowned, “You know I could never really chose but it’s family vs family, and Pete… I love you,” they stared holes into each other’s eyes, “and because of that, I would never be comfortable sitting idly by while you wasted away back home.”

Pete shook his head, a wry grin, “It sounds so dramatic. It’s life or death, but it’s not my choice, it never has been.”

“This is possibly the dumbest thing in the fucking world,” Patrick said.

“Amen.” Pete agreed.

In a stoic way, Patrick escorted Pete to the entrance, the rough scraping of the wheels on the suitcase he dragged behind them echoed faintly in the deserted parking lot. 

Patrick lifted his chin to close the small distance between them, and Pete barely responded before he left through the sliding doors.

Patrick felt a twist in his gut.

XO

Mikey Way, dressed in all black head to toe, sunglasses perching with an attitude upon his straight nose, uttered a sigh so loud it could be heard from France. When Gerard, whose hair was a mess and eyes were a manic white outlined in black smudges all across his brow, noticed his brother in the door of his trailer, he almost forgot he was naked. Almost. Mikey dropped his suitcase on the ground and shut the door behind him, flopping down next to Gerard on the bed.

“I saw Patrick at the airport.”, Mikey said.

“Did you ride back with him?” Gerard asked.

“He looked very sad, and I make him nervous.”, Mikey said, “So I hid in the trunk because it was cheaper than taking a cab.”

Gerard teared up.

“I happen to have the key to still on me, since the intern car was my first…” Mikey trailed off, “Are you naked?”

With a sob Gerard nodded, and Mikey patted his shoulder, “There, there.”

“We’re fucked,” Gerard said, “We’re so fucked.”


End file.
